


Hard and Fast

by HappyHour



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Doggy Style, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyHour/pseuds/HappyHour
Summary: Sometimes Wheeljack just needs some pounding.





	Hard and Fast

Wheeljack had his aft up in the air, almost forcefully so while he felt heavy hands down on his back just below his neck, pinning him down while giving him barely any space to have his face off the floor. But he could still lift his head enough so he wasn’t being forced to lick the floor.

He felt something akin to a high as he let himself being forced down on the floor, feel the fast rhythmic pounding into his valve and how Ratchet pushed harder on him if he tried to even just shift around, misunderstanding the movement for his usual resistance or attempt to get free. Wheeljack didn’t want to get free, far from it, but it didn’t stop him from pushing Ratchet’s buttons.

But not too much. While the Doc was easy to antagonize or make him flustered, this was as much about him as it was about Wheeljack.

Wheeljack tried to get his aft into a bit more comfortable angle but any attempts to do that were interrupted as Ratchet just continued his pounding, never letting up and never slowing down. There was no irregularity to the fragging, Ratchet was simply jackhammering into him, each thrust hard and deep, jolting Wheeljack so he had to brace himself for it. If his arms lost traction with the floor he would be helpless, unable to brace himself properly and then he wouldn’t be just pounded in the valve but scraped on the floor.

It was tempting to just let that happen, but the temptation was not strong enough. Wheeljack smirked as he adjusted his arms again, letting the elbows and open palms painfully wedge against the floor so his chest and face would not have to under the same pressure.

And with a quick motion, helped by his arms, he moved his aft just slightly. And that was the sweet spot. He could feel Ratchet’s spike going even deeper into him and he heard Ratchet grunt slightly differently as well as no doubt he also felt the difference. As the spike was brushing against previously starved nodes Wheeljack shuddered, and Ratchet responded by putting a bit more pressure onto Wheeljack’s back.

Wheeljack didn’t care, just as long as the fragging was being kept up. He braced himself even harder, resisting Ratchet’s unwitting attempts to push him forwards and down. It was now that Wheeljack was fighting back, even if it was in a way that Ratchet didn’t notice.

It was working. Wheeljack was feeling the overload coming. It was building up fast, having most of the groundwork done previously but the slight shift in angle was what had been needed to really get it going. Wheeljack was gasping more in time with Ratchet’s pounds, but Ratchet didn’t change his pace at all. It was still that same constant rhythmic pounding, the spike slamming deep into Wheeljack’s valve, rubbing against very sensitive nodes before violently withdrawing, followed barely half a second after with another pound. 

Wheeljack was soon putting all his concentration into bracing against Ratchet. The fragging felt even more violent now even though he knew that Ratchet had not done anything different now than before. He felt his body trembling in anticipation but he held on fast, his legs also now trying to push back against Ratchet.

Wheeljack felt as if his whole body locked up as the overload hit him hard. He didn’t moan, he yelled. It was as if his body didn’t know what to do with the conflicting signals, as both the overload and Wheeljack were wrestling over control of his body. He felt his body nearly cramping as he stood firm of not losing his precious grip on the floor.

And the whole time Ratchet had done nothing but to keep up the regular tempo, never slowing down or even acknowledging Wheeljack’s overload even though it would have unduated around Ratchet’s spike. There was no effort into making it pleasurable or extend it, Ratchet was simply fraggin Wheeljack for his own sake.

Wheeljack felt the exhaustion that came after so hard of an overload, but he refused to let up. He braced against Ratchet, trying to lift his chest off the floor but Ratchet just put more weight onto his back. But at least Wheeljack hadn’t lost, he was still in the same position as he had been before the overload. And his valve was satisfied. While it was still pleasurably lubricated and would stand up to extended fragging, there was no buildup happening, no real deep pleasure to being fragged. It felt exhausting.

Ratchet’s endurance was commendable. It were couple of minutes until he grunted differently, his hands leaving Wheeljack’s back only to come around his hips, forcing Wheeljack further back and flush against Ratchet as he overloaded deep into his valve with barely noticeable huffs of pleasure.

Now Wheeljack could relax. The moment Ratchet let him go he let himself flop down on the floor, his legs not even able to keep his aft up. He laid completely flat against the floor, feeling how cool it was as his arms, legs and hands were aching in protest from the beating they had taken.

“You alright?” Ratchet asked, and Wheeljack only grunted something that resembled an affirmative.

“Good. You just stay there, I’m going to use the washracks.” Ratchet said, patting Wheeljack as he passed him. Wheeljack just smiled in return, rolling over to his back and stared up at the ceiling. Ratchet wouldn’t take too long, and it would be a while until anyone else came by. He was looking forwards to seeing Ratchet’s scandalous face when he found him self-servicing, though he would most likely offer to finish Wheeljack off.

**Author's Note:**

> It was either this or just continue not posting for even longer.


End file.
